


for the miracle to come

by sarahcakes613



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Hand Jobs, Hospital Sex, Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions, M/M, Medical Procedures, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-08
Updated: 2020-08-08
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:22:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25775077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarahcakes613/pseuds/sarahcakes613
Summary: "“I take it surgical intervention is not an option either?” Rafael asks, already preparing for the answer he expects.“I’m afraid not.” Dr. Tanner replies. “We’ve had some minor success with SETs, but it’s not a guarantee.”SETs, or Soulmate Energy Transfusions. They’re something Rafael has only ever encountered from a legal standpoint."After Rafael is injured in a car accident, Sonny volunteers to give up some of his own years to ensure Rafael will heal.Bingo fill for "Soulmates can give each other their own years of life".
Relationships: Rafael Barba/Dominick "Sonny" Carisi Jr.
Comments: 10
Kudos: 45
Collections: Barisi Soulmate Bingo, The Leonard Cohen Files





	for the miracle to come

**Author's Note:**

> Apparently my signature has become taking fantasy-esque prompts and bureaucratizing them so they're part of our mundane world. That's what you get when you're a civil servant, I guess.
> 
> I based the procedure off of my experiences with intravenous iron infusions. Sadly, despite undergoing them for a year, I am still not magnetic.

_I dreamed about you, baby/It was just the other night…The sands of time were falling/From your fingers and your thumb -_ Waiting for the Miracle, Leonard Cohen

Rafael opens his eyes, but all he sees is black. That’s not right. Is it? There should be…light. Shapes. Instead, there is just blackness. He blinks, and his eyelashes brush against something rough.

He lifts a hand and feels coarse fabric, a bandage, wrapped around his eyes. He tries to peel it away but his hand is tangled in cords and he paws ineffectually, his breathing speeding up as he begins to panic.

“Mr. Barba? Mr. Barba, I need you to take a deep breath for me.”

A woman’s voice, and a hand gripping his. He sucks in a heaving breath, holding it and letting it out in a gust.

“Good, that’s good. Mr. Barba, do you know why you’re in the hospital?”

Breaking glass and crumpling aluminum.

“There was a car.”

His voice is croaky, and a straw is pressed lightly against his lips. He drinks, it’s tepid water but it might as well be straight from the freezer, it feels so good going down his throat. He doesn’t know why his throat feels so raw. Like he’d been screaming. Had he been screaming?

“Yes, that’s right, you were in a car accident. You were unconscious when the ambulance brought you in. We’ve called your emergency contact, he’s on his way.”

His emergency contact. Sonny. They’d only updated their papers a month ago. They’ve been dating for six months; the paint is practically still fresh on their bond.

“Why are my eyes wrapped?” He asks, holding his breath again, because the potential answers frighten him.

The ensuing silence frightens him even more.

“I’m going to get Dr. Tanner in to explain everything to you, just try to rest for now.”

The nurse leaves, and Rafael lies there, because there’s nothing else he can do.

Sonny blows in, a flurry of frenetic energy, only moments before the doctor.

“Oh god, Rafael, are you – of course you’re not okay, shit. I’m here, okay? I’m right here next to you.”

Sonny picks up his hand and kisses it, careful not to dislodge the pulse oximeter on his finger. Rafael squeezes Sonny’s hand as well as he can, desperate to feel Sonny with every sense still available to him.

The doctor walks in, his shoes squeaking on the linoleum floor.

“Mr. Barba, I’m Dr. Tanner. I’m an ophthalmologist here at Bellevue.”

“That’s a fancy eye doctor, right?” Sonny sounds dubious, like he’s a hairs breadth away from asking to see the man’s medical degree.

“I’m sorry, who are you?”

“Detective Sonny Carisi, I’m Rafael’s partner.”

Rafael shifts restlessly, noting the emphasis Sonny has put on his title.

“Sonny.” He says it quietly, but Sonny hears it.

“Sorry, sorry. I’m just.” Sonny lapses into silence, his sentence unfinished.

Dr. Tanner’s voice is placid. “It’s quite alright, detective. Yes, I am an eye doctor; and I'd like to go over the results of the CT scans we ran when Mr. Barba first arrived.”

Rafael feels Sonny’s hip nudge against his as he seats himself on the edge of the hospital bed. It’s not the most comfortable position, but he’s reluctant to ask Sonny to move. He wants him there.

“How bad is it?” Rafael asks, not bothering to pretend it could be anything but.

“You suffered damage to the optic nerve in your right eye and some retinal tears to the left. The tears should heal on their own, I’d estimate two to four weeks.”

“And the nerve damage?”

“Nerves can regenerate, can’t they?” Sonny interjects. “I saw that on The Bionic Vet.”

Rafael almost rolls his eyes, but the jolt of pain as he tries makes him want to throw up, so he settles for a hiss and an elbow to Sonny’s side.

“Well, yes, some can. Unfortunately, optic nerve fibres do not possess that ability. I am sorry to use the word, but it's likely you're looking at permanent blindness in your right eye.”

Permanent blindness. His depth perception will be shot. He’s not sure what reading will be like, especially the loose-leaf services at work, with their bible-thin pages and minuscule font size.

“I take it surgical intervention is not an option either?” Rafael asks, already preparing for the answer he expects.

“I’m afraid not.” Dr. Tanner replies. “We’ve had some minor success with SETs, but it’s not a guarantee.”

SETs, or Soulmate Energy Transfusions. They’re something Rafael has only ever encountered from a legal standpoint. Do partners have the right to make the choice for their incapacitated soulmate about whether or not to receive them? Are soulmates entitled to them, if it could save their life, or does the one who would be giving up their years also have a say?

“What kind of success are we talkin’, doc?”

“Well, it’s been shown to activate regeneration in nerves that don’t typically do so, such as those in the optic region. But even with that, the guarantee is not 100%.”

“Okay, well how many percent?”

Rafael doesn’t like this line of questioning.

“Sonny, it doesn’t matter. He said it’s not a guarantee, we’re not doing it.”

Even with the bandage wrapped around his head, Rafael can feel the weight of Sonny’s disapproving glare.

“We can at least hear what the odds are.”

The doctor coughs. “Well, in a case like this, with an, er, relatively young donor, and the damage is clean, there are no lesions elsewhere that would be likely to impede progress, so…I’d estimate an 80 to 85% efficacy.”

And, oh. Those numbers are higher than Rafael expected.

“It would require a rather large donation, though.” Dr. Tanner cautions. “We’ve seen the greatest results in situations where partners gave up ten years.

Ten years – a decade! Rafael’s stomach turns at the thought of Sonny dying a full decade before he is meant to, just so a bitter, old, jaded man can see out of both eyes.

“Right, so where's the waiver I need to sign?” Sonny asks.

“Absolutely not.” Rafael states.

“Why don’t I get some pamphlets and let you two discuss in private?” The doctor replies, and the squeak of his shoes fades away.

“Rafael, those are really good odds.”

Sonny’s hands are gentle on Rafael’s face, cradling his cheeks. Like he is trying to look into Rafael’s eyes, despite the thick layer of gauze.

“I know,” Rafael acknowledges. “But not at the cost of ten years, Sonny. I can’t ask you to do that for me. I won’t let this be something you regret someday.”

“You’re not askin’, Rafi. You never have to ask. I’m offering. Besides, think of it this way. If I give up a decade, we’ll basically be the same age.”

Rafael snorts. “You angling for early retirement, detective?”

“Nah,” Sonny’s voice is soft. “I just don’t think I like the idea of outliving you by ten years. This way, we won’t be so far apart. One of us dies, the other one won’t be as far behind.”

Rafael’s throat is thick and he swallows to try and dissolve the lump forming in it. “You’re assuming we’ll both die of old age.” He tries to joke, but it comes out hollow.

“Yeah,” Sonny agrees. “I’m counting on it.”

Rafael’s eyes are stinging, tears forming in them that have nowhere to go beneath the bandages.

“Fine,” He says, the lump in his throat causing his voice to crack. “But if it doesn’t work, I’m dying first and haunting you for as long as you keep living.”

“Deal.” Sonny says, and he swipes his thumbs gently over Rafael’s cheekbones, wiping away the moisture that has leaked out from beneath the gauze.

The procedure itself is much less dramatic than Hollywood would have you believe. Rafael remains in his bed, and a reclining chair is brought in for Sonny from the dialysis wing. They both sit quietly, hands linked, as Dr. Tanner and two nurses attach sticky nodes to their temples and strap a heart monitor around Sonny’s chest.

“It might only feel like a tickle, but it can also be painful,” Dr. Tanner warns them. “We can give Mr. Barba a sedative, but you will need to remain alert, detective.”

Rafael refuses the sedative, not wanting to sleep away the transfusion while Sonny sits beside him in pain.

“We’re beginning now,” one of the nurses says to Rafael. “You might feel a cold sensation in your veins as the energy transfers. You might also notice a metallic taste in your mouth, that’s completely normal. We can get you some orange juice, if you want.”

Rafael nods absently, already focused on the vaguely unsettling feeling of something being pumped into his body through his energy receptors. It’s not painful, at least not yet, but it’s definitely not something he’d recommend to the casual observer.

He feels the cold sensation the nurse had described, his entire body tingling with it. He shivers, and one of the nurses lays a thin blanket over his legs.

It’s quiet in the room, the only sound is the low hum of the transference machine set up behind Sonny’s chair. Even without the sedative, Rafael finds himself drifting, not quite asleep but not fully awake either.

Dr. Tanner comes to check on them after an hour.

“The transferral is almost complete, how are you feeling?” He asks Sonny.

“I feel alright. I don’t feel all that different, really.”

“You’ll notice it more when you stand up, you can expect some light-headedness or dizziness, but it shouldn’t last more than a few hours. Most people describe it as a feeling like a mild hangover. We do have to insist you not drive home, however. Is there anyone we can call for you?”

“Nah, we’ve got a friend out in the waiting room. Thanks, doc.”

Rafael tilts his head towards Sonny.

“Fr’nd?” He mumbles, still floating in a semi-coherent state.

“Yeah, Mike is here.” Sonny murmurs. “I called him when they were setting up, figured he’d know better than anyone what it’s gonna be like.”

Rafael nods. Mike’s fiancée had given up a full twenty years for him after the Munson ordeal. It still hadn’t been enough to return him to full capacity, and he would never be able to return to the police force, but he’s working as a security manager for the United Nations now, monitoring the feeds at their Manhattan headquarters.

The nurses return and begin unsticking the various wires from their heads. Rafael can still only see darkness, but he – possibly wishfully – thinks it’s lightened a shade or two in intensity.

“Mr. Barba, we’re going to start removing the bandage now, okay? You might feel some tugging around your hairline.”

Hands on his face, and then winding around his head. He closes his eyes, and he’s definitely not imagining it now, there is a difference in the depth of the blackness. As the bandage unwinds he realizes there is a secondary bandage over his left eye. The retinal tears, he remembers. He imagines this one will need to stay on, then, for the time being.

“Okay, Mr. Barba, I want you to slowly open your right eye for me.” Dr. Tanner says, his hand firmly holding Rafael’s head in place.

He blinks once, twice, and then cautiously lifts his eyelid. The light in the room is dimmed, but it might as well be the noonday sun, and he can almost feel the visceral way his pupil contracts.

Dr. Tanner holds a small flashlight in one hand while he moves Rafael’s head with the other, examining his eye from every angle. He’s a mostly blurry shape to Rafael, but he can _see_ the mostly blurry shape.

“Everything looks okay so far.” The doctor says, sounding pleased. “You’re going to need to come back in 48 hours for follow-up scans, both of you. And I expect the retinal tears will heal faster as well, probably no more than a week. We’ll send you home with some fresh bandages, I want you to change it before you go to bed and then again in the morning. In the meantime, we’re going to ask you to stay here another half-hour just to make sure there are no adverse reactions. When you feel ready to leave, just go over to the nurse’s station and they’ll take care of the insurance and paperwork.”

The minute he leaves the room, Sonny jumps up and closes the door. He draws the curtain around Rafael’s bed for good measure before nudging at Rafael until he shifts over enough to make space for the long-legged detective.

Free of the oximeter and IV, Rafael is able to turn onto his side facing Sonny, who wraps his arms tightly around his partner, pulling him against his chest.

“Jesus, Rafi,” Sonny breathes against his hair. “I was so fuckin’ scared you don’t even know.”

Rafael blinks his eye rapidly, trying to clear the teary film over it. Looking at Sonny is like looking through a rain-spotted windshield, but he can make out the expression of relief on his face.

They lie there, just holding each other, until Rafael becomes aware of something happening below his waist.

“Sonny, why is your dick hard right now?”

Not only hard, but pressing insistently against Rafael’s thigh.

“Um.”

It would take more than blurry vision for Rafael to miss the bright pink flush of Sonny’s cheeks right now.

“Um?” He echoes, waiting for Sonny to finish his thought.

“It’s kind of a thing that happens sometimes?” Sonny says it like a question. “It’s like an adrenaline drop thing. I was scared, and now I’m relieved, and things get a bit screwy in the automatic response department of my brain.”

“You have a fear boner.” Rafael says, his eyebrows halfway up his forehead.

“Yeah, pretty much. Don’t worry, it’ll go away.”

Rafael’s hand creeps along Sonny’s waistband.

“Does it have to?”

There is a sharp intake of breath from Sonny as Rafael’s hand lands directly on his stiffness and curls around it.

“Ah, n-no, it doesn’t have to, but,” Sonny manages to stammer out. “Raf, we’re in a _hospital_.”

Rafael unzips Sonny’s pants.

“People have sex in hospitals all the time, Sonny. I know you know that, you made me watch eight seasons of Grey’s Anatomy.”

“It really did go downhill after the plane crash.” Sonny mumbles, and then any further words are lost as Rafael spits into his hand and begins stroking Sonny.

Rafael’s not hard, and he doesn’t think his body could even remotely summon up the energy to get there right now, but he’s not too concerned about it. He’s enjoying the chance to focus entirely on his soulmate.

Especially the broken whimpers emerging from his mouth as Rafael’s hand speeds up and slows down, tightening his fist and twisting his wrist, drawing Sonny closer and closer to the precipice.

“I love you.” Rafael says. It’s the first time he’s said it. He thinks he’s known for a while now, but he’s always kept things close to the vest, and even soulmate relationships don’t always work out. It had felt safer to keep this small thing to himself until he was sure.

If anything has thrown into stark relief how sure he is, it is the sacrifice Sonny has just made for him, and the reason behind it.

“I’ve loved you since the day we met.” Sonny chokes out, his hand curling around Rafael’s neck, pulling him in for a deep kiss. It’s messy, Sonny is frantic as his lips move against Rafael’s.

He is bucking his hips almost helplessly, and Rafael nudges his chin up, sucking on a small patch of skin on Sonny’s neck.

“Say it again?” Sonny begs, and Rafael doesn’t have it in him to tease right now.

He kisses Sonny’s neck, and repeats himself, pressing the words into his soulmate’s skin.

“I love you, Sonny.”

Sonny’s fist is in his mouth, stifling his moans as he comes, his cock spurting over Rafael’s hand and the starched hospital linens. His hips thrust once, twice more, before he slumps down, panting.

“I’m never going to regret this, you know.” Sonny’s voice is soft again.

“You seem awfully sure of yourself.” Rafael says, but his heart is battling his cynicism and for once he decides to let his heart win. He will believe in Sonny’s optimistic vision of their future, if only for the sweet smile that Rafael will now always get to see grace Sonny’s face when he says so.


End file.
